Giving Thanks
by sga gatekeeper
Summary: A little Thanksgiving fic set in my Meredithverse. Not necessarily a part of the time-line, but can be read as part of the series. John is thankful for Meredith and Meredith's thankful that he's smarter than she gives him credit for.


** Author's Note: In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I wanted to take a moment and just say that I'm thankful for you guys. Nothing makes me happier than getting comments on my journal and you guys are just so amazing when it comes to that! Since I got such a good response about my Halloween fic, I figured I'd write a Thanksgiving one too! Please don't forget that comments are love and I hope everyone has a Happy (and safe) Thanksgiving! **

Meredith has plenty to be thankful for. In fact, for the first time in her entire adult life, she thinks she has an actual reason – make that five reasons – to celebrate the holiday that up until this point hasn't mean more than an excuse to stuff her face even more than usual.

That being said, she doesn't _actually_ want to celebrate it.

"Meredith," Elizabeth says and right now, she's exasperated enough that Meredith has no trouble hearing it in the tone of her voice. It's been awhile since Meredith's annoyed her this much, and she's quite pleased that it took her less than five minutes to accomplish it. "I don't understand why you're so against this. John and I both think it would be good for the morale of entire expedition."

Meredith snorts and rolls her eyes at that. They're faced with certain death on an almost daily basis in this God damned galaxy; she doesn't think a couple of turkeys are going to fix that.

"It's stupid. Besides, _my_ Thanksgiving was in October. I didn't see anyone carving up a bird for that," she gripes, scowling just a little.

Elizabeth must have prepared for that, because she doesn't even look a little ruffled. "We decided that we'll alternate holidays so we don't leave anybody out. It's not feasible to celebrate them all, but next year, we'll celebrate the Canadian Thanksgiving."

Meredith rolls her eyes again. "I'm not interested and we just have too much to do to—"

"—I'm not asking for a lot here, Meredith," Elizabeth says in her 'no-nonsense' tone. "I just need you to come up with some sort of schedule for the rest of your people so that the ones who wish to participate can."

Meredith still thinks it's the stupidest idea she's ever heard, but she has a lot of work to get done, so rather than argue any more, she just waves Elizabeth off and turns back to her screen.

She, of course, has no intentions of coming up with a 'schedule' for this ridiculous Thanksgiving enforced day off.

.::.

In the end, Meredith doesn't really have a choice. While she had every intentions of carrying on with business as usual on the morning of the 25th of November –by Earth's standards, of course. Why any actually keeps a calendar out here, Meredith will never know, but whatever- John sweeps into her lab like he owns the place, bearing not-pumpkin pies and declaring that the scientists take the rest of the day off.

"What the fuck, Sheppard?" She asks and this time, it isn't in that affectionate 'you're-a-moron-but-I-love-you-anyway' way that she's come to adopt when it comes to him. She's really annoyed.

"It's Thanksgiving, Mer. Just giving your minions something to be thankful for," he says in a cheeky way, handing the pie to Zelenka as he scurries out of the room with the rest of the group before she can order him back.

"You have no authority here! You can't just—"

"No, I can't," John says happily. "But Elizabeth can."

"We can't just—"

"—Yes, you can. C'mon. We're in no immediate danger. We've got a small group of technicians stationed in the control room to alert us in case shit goes bad, but right now, we're in the clear."

"Famous last words," she spits. "And don't think I won't be having words with Elizabeth over this! This is a complete abuse of her power! What the hell am I in charge of the God damned department for if she's just going to undermine me like this?"

"Mer…"

"Oh, just shut up," she growls, balling up her fist to punch him in the shoulder. He flinches, more because it's expected rather than because it actually hurt. "I better get pie out of this," she huffs. "And not the crappy substitute pumpkin crap from P67-M95. I want the real stuff. And you're going to break out your secret stash of whipped cream too."

"Now, let's not be hasty…"

"Oh no," she snaps. "You come in here, completely interrupting my day? Yeah, you're going to pay. Just because what we do isn't as important as leaning against a wall or whatever it is you do all day doesn't mean that it isn't important. I had five different simulations I wanted to be running and—"

She splutters angrily when he silences her protests by pressing his lips to hers. She remains still for a moment before she relaxes against him, practically melting into his arms as his hands find her hips. When he pulls away, they're both slightly breathless and he's got that shit-eating grin that she loves so much.

"I'll make it up to you," he says.

"You're damn right you will," she scowls, hitting his shoulder again. "Now let's go. You've ruined my entire morning and you're going to make it up to me with some amazing, mind-blowing sex."

John was out the door before she was.

.::.

By the time John is finished making up with Meredith, she thinks she's found another thing she's thankful for.

"Mind-blowing orgasms. Especially multiple ones," she says, breathing raggedly as she clutches the sheet to her sweaty chest. "Jesus Christ, John. You've killed me."

John says nothing. He responds by leaning over and pressing a kiss to her collarbone.

"Does that," he asks after a moment and Meredith is pleased to realize he's just as out of breath as she is, "mean that my whipped cream is still safe?"

"Absolutely not," she says, reaching over to pat his hip. "It's all mine. But, if you're nice and share your turkey with me, maybe I'll let you have some."

"Mmhmm. I could think of a couple things I'd like to eat it off of," he says, stretching lazily before propping himself up on his arm. "Starting with you."

"Ew. Sticky."

"Not if I made sure to lick you clean," he says with a feral grin.

Meredith rolls her eyes and sits up, still clutching the sheet.

"Why do you still do that?" He asks, reaching over to tug it down just a little. "It's not like I haven't seen them before."

"That's not the point," she says, batting his hands away. "Now quit being so grabby. I need to get a shower if I'm actually going to be expected to partake in this stupid holiday."

"C'mon, quit being such a scrooge."

"Wrong holiday."

"Concept still applies. Why are you so against Thanksgiving?"

"Because it's a crock. And yes, okay, I do actually have things to be thankful for now, but why does society think it's important to put the focus on those things on a single day? I'm no more thankful today than I was yesterday and I'll be no less thankful tomorrow than I am today."

John is silent at that and when Meredith climbs from the bed, she's surprised to see him staring at her thoughtfully.

"What?" She barks, a little annoyed.

"That's just… a very un-McKay like way of thinking. Even now, you still continue to surprise me."

She wonders if maybe she should be a little offended by that, but since she's feeling charitable –thanks to the great sex –she just brushes it off and shrugs. "Whatever. I'm going to shower. Coming?"

"Hopefully more than once," he grins before he scrambles out of the bed, following after her.

.::.

"Hello Meredith. John," Teyla greets, smiling widely as John and Meredith approach the Mess. "I was not sure if you would pull yourself away from your lab to join us."

"There's food, isn't there? 'Course she'd be here," Ronon snorts from somewhere behind her and Meredith just rolls her eyes.

"Shut it, Conan, before I decide to keep the pie all to myself," she grouches, but there's no malice there. While she'd most likely castrate anyone else –John included –who gives her shit about how much she eats, she knows that this is Ronon's way of showing that he likes her.

At least she thinks.

Hmm.

"Pie?"

"Pie. The real stuff. Absolutely delicious. It's a Thanksgiving staple, you know," Meredith says airily before she brushes past them, scowling into the nearly deserted Mess. "Where the hell is everyone?"

"Enjoying the day off," John says with a shrug.

"But… but… what about the whole Thanksgiving crap?"

"We offered to do a city-wide thing, but everyone really just wanted to do their own thing so it's just us. We do have Thanksgiving inspired food, too."

"Sheppard, if you were pulling my leg about the God damned pie…"

"Relax," Elizabeth says, practically materializing from nowhere in front of them. "There's pie. Plenty of it."

"Better be," she grumbles. "I'm still mad at you, by the way."

"I figured," Elizabeth shrugs. "It can wait until tomorrow though."

"Fair enough. Pie?"

"Come on then," John grins, nudging her gently.

In the center of the empty Mess Hall, Carson is waiting, grinning broadly.

"Well there ya are," he greets.

"Told you she'd be here," Ronon smirks. "Pay up."

"After dinner, guys," John chastises, though Meredith knows that look on his face. If a bet was made, there's no doubt that John was in on it but she can't bring herself to care.

Sinking down into her usual seat, Meredith's mouth is practically watering. She has no idea how Elizabeth managed to get all this food from Earth into the city without the entire population knowing about it, but this is quite a pleasant surprise.

She reaches for the plate of turkey when Teyla clears her throat, looking at her pointedly. "I have been asking around about this traditional holiday of yours—"

"—not _mine_," Meredith corrects. "Mine is in October."

"—and I thought that perhaps before we began our meal, we should take a moment and say what it is we are most thankful for on this day. Shall I start?"

She apparently ignores Meredith's eye rolling.

"I am thankful for another year with wonderful friends," she says. "I do not know where my people would be, if it was not for you, Colonel Sheppard, or you, Doctor Weir. So thank you."

Meredith thinks she'll probably strain her eyes from all the rolling by time all of this is over with.

"I'm thankful for all the members on the expedition," Elizabeth says and Meredith snorts under her breath. She wonders what it will be like on the day Elizabeth stops being so God damned diplomatic. Maybe then their Thanksgivings will be a little more exciting. "Without them, we wouldn't have come as far as we have."

Privately, Meredith thinks they've only come this far because of her brains and John's… well, all of John, but for once, she keeps her thoughts to herself. She does have to work at not laughing out loud though, because it's Carson's turn.

She can't wait to hear this gem.

"I'm thankful for my mum," he says. "And for all the wonderful friends who keep me from missin' what I've left behind."

Sappy. Just like she expected.

John catches her eye and she can tell he's thinking along the same lines as she is. Barely hiding his smile, he bumps her knee with his before he turns to Ronon. "Your turn, big guy."

"This is stupid," Ronon says gruffly but when Elizabeth cocks her eyebrow at him, he just sighs. "I'm thankful for my gun. And my knives. All fifteen of them."

"I only counted seven," John says, a little dismayed.

Ronon just grins.

"Your turn, John," Elizabeth says, hiding her smile behind her hand.

Meredith thinks that this might be as good as Ronon's. John's even less sappy than she is.

"Well," he says, clearing his throat just a little. "Like the rest of you guys, I'm thankful for the people on the expedition but um… more than that, I guess… I'm thankful for my team. I know that what we do isn't easy but you guys are just… you're amazing. There's nobody else in this galaxy or the next that I trust to have my back like you do. And Meredith."

"Huh?" She asks dumbly.

"I'm thankful for you. As insane as you are on most days, you're what keeps _me_ sane. I'm so thankful that we umm… you know, finally got over all the miscommunications and stuff. Yeah. So um… yeah."

Meredith can feel the heat on her cheeks. While she's never doubted how John felt about her, hearing him put it out like that is… well, mind-blowing to say the very least. How the hell is she going to respond to _that_?

"Meredith?" Elizabeth prompts, offering her a smile. "Your turn."

"Right… I um… I'm thankful for… for… pie."

Crash and fucking burn.

.::.

By the time they make it back to their room later that night, Meredith wants nothing more than to fall into bed and not move for a week. Unfortunately, she still has some ass kissing to do for that ridiculous declaration at dinner.

First thing's first though, the uncomfortably tight pants have to go, so she kicks off her shoes and unbuttons her pants. She breathes a sigh of relief almost immediately until John stalks past her, heading for the bathroom.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Kicking her pants off in the general direction of their clothes basket, she grabs a pair of his comfortable sweatpants from the bed and then trudges after him, shoulders slumped.

"John?" She calls, tapping quietly on the bathroom door.

"I'll be out in a minute," he responds, his tone clipped.

She sighs again, crossing her arms over her chest as she slouches against the wall. While he wasn't actually angry with her, she could tell that he was less than pleased and she just wants to set the record straight before she succumbs to a freaking food coma.

Luckily, he's not as petty as she is and he steps out of the bathroom less than sixty seconds later.

"All clear," he says, stepping around her. She reaches out, grabbing his hand.

"John, please. I just—"

"It's okay, Mer. I'm not mad," he says, leaning over to peck her forehead. "C'mon, bed, huh?"

"In a minute," she says, lips slanted down in a frown. "I just… you know how much I love you, yeah?"

"Of course I do."

"Good because… because I know I'm not so good when it comes to saying it. I mean, today was a perfect example but I… I choked. But I need to know that _you_ know how thankful I am for you. I don't… And this doesn't leave this room or else I'll have you thrown off the east pier but… " she trails off, sucking in a deep breath. "You've changed me, John. Not just you, but Teyla, Elizabeth, hell even Ronon and Carson have… I'm not the person I was back in Antarctica."

"We all know that."

"What you said today was… nobody's ever said anything like that to me before and I wish… well, sometimes I wish I wasn't so stupid when it comes to this kind of stuff because I wanted to be able to say this stuff then. I just… I couldn't."

"It's okay," he says again, cupping her face in his hands to bring her in for a kiss. "In your defense," he mutters against her lips, the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. "It was really good pie."

She snorts against him, socking him in the shoulder. "I don't even want to _hear_ the word 'pie' until next Thanksgiving," she groans, slumping against him. "We're really okay?" She asks after a moment.

"We're really okay. I don't need you declaring it in front of the entire expedition. I know how you feel."

Meredith visibly relaxes at that before she reaches up, draping her arms around his neck. "Now that we've got that settled… I think you promised me some whipped cream."

John snorts and rolls his eyes. "Thought you were stuffed."

"_I _never said anything about eating it," she grins.

She's also thankful that John is smart enough to pull her into bed.


End file.
